Heiress of Revan
by PasswordPassword
Summary: DSMRevan- Revan and Bastila have conquered the whole galaxy. What's left? The trials, soul searching, and wanderings of their daughter; Cala Shan.
1. Sith Emperor

My first fic! Brilliant!

I need reviews. Please? Anything that pops into your head, I would be so very grateful.

On the topic of reviews... anyone who has guest reviews that sound like they came from your grammar teacher... yeah... they're probably mine, sorry.

Disclaimer: Shockingly, I own nothing, not even the original characters. Lucas can have them to; I'm not selling anything.

* * *

The empress raised a thin pale hand, revealing it from the black silk and jewels of her robe.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the Imperial Senate, I am proud to present to you, my master, my husband, Dark Lord of the Sith, and Emperor of the Sith Empire, Darth Revan!" The senate erupted in applause as Revan strode down the bridge, past the files of saluting apprentices, to the central platform. As he saw their grey uniforms, and the violet blades of their lightsabers as they ignited them in salute, he was reminded of an old line, still lodged in him memory. "_Savior, conqueror, hero, villain. You are all things Revan… and yet you are nothing. In the end you belong to neither the light nor the darkness. You will forever stand alone._" That was the wisest thing he ever remembered Malak saying, and nothing of the memory of Malak, or Alek, bothered him more. Because it was true. He was the undisputed Dark Lord of the Sith; Malak was dead, the Sith Emperor Vitiate was dead, and the Sith Triumvirate was dead. He, or his minions, had defeated them all. Now he reigned as the most moderate Dark Lord in history.

And it had to be Malak who said it! Malak, who's name he had made a synonym for dangerous "dark side radicalism". Hatred and anger and love for Bastila fed him, yes, but he ruled with measure, refusing, for the greater good, to cross certain lines into the sadistic or the tyrannical. He was dark, not grey, but only just. Bastila bowed reverently to him and stepped behind him. _I turn my back to her when I know she is armed. _He thought. _Malak would never have allowed that with her, or with Bandon, and I would never have allowed that with him. If I had seen one of my Sith allow that in the old days, I would have killed them on the spot for their foolishness. _He made a small sigh in his mask. "How times have changed,"he murmured, and took his position on the platform.

"I send you greetings senators, and I send greetings to the loyal citizens of the Sith Empire who you represent. We stand now in a golden age of the galaxy, when I, the Dark Lord of the Sith, stand supreme. Under my leadership, we have struck down the Jedi archaism and Malakist radicalism that brought chaos and destruction to the galaxy!" he paused for applause, "and I continue to work to repair the damage they have done, and strengthen and enrich the people of the Empire. Telos IV and Taris have been almost completely restored, dissidents on Onderon, Dantooine, Kashyyyk, and Nar-Shaddaa have been silenced for good, and with the mighty and glorious armed forces of the Sith Empire maintaining peace, interstellar commerce has reached an unprecedented volume." Applause started, but he waved a hand, silencing them.

"But despite these leaps and bounds," his voice hardened, "there are those among the citizens of the empire who still are unable to accept the blessings that I have brought unto them, Jedi fundamentalists who insist that I can do no good, simply because I do not conform to their eternally inalterable, regressive ideals of the light side of the Force. These don't concern me; I have fought against them my entire life. But I have heard also that there are Malakist elements that say that I have 'betrayed' the very nature of the dark side. My security forces have thwarted a recent attempt on my life by these lurking weaklings." Gasps passed through the senate chamber. "I ask you, should they be allowed to strike at this galaxy's lord and master again?"

A boiling turmoil took hold of the room. Most of the senators cried "No!" at first, but many others were silent in caution, sensing the ploy, still more cried, "Yes!" Many of his admirals and generals cried "Yes!" exposing their resentment of Revan as a Sith Lord of politics more than war. Atton Rand, head of the Sith Inquisitor's Board, was among the most vocal, but his wife, Secretary of the Imperial Navy Meetra Surik Rand, silenced him. Sullen and reserved, Senator Mical of Dantooine, the chairmen of the senate, hid behind his steely façade, waiting for the next move on the dejerik board. The tumult took a new turn, now arguments were erupting, calling each other weak or disloyal.

"Silence!" Revan boomed. He was not heard.

"_Shut up!_" He shouted louder, and this time he shot lightning into the air, and they were silent in the bathing blue and purple light of the angry, writhing claws force energy.

"So many of you think that I have become soft, and detached from the life a true sith should lead, always open to attack by my subordinates. That I have made myself immune to the dangers of the system which I created." He said. "Now see how wrong you are." Two platforms rose from the distant senate floor.

"Rather than kill all of you, I will show you what it means to oppose my might; that I can defeat any one of my enemies with my own blade." The platforms rose to the bridge's level, on each there was crate and a guard at its side. At a gesture from Revan, the guards on the bridge departed. Revan walked to the center of the bridge. The guard on one of the platforms opened the door of the metal crate, and a simply clad, middle-aged human stepped out. At his belt hung a saberstaff.

"Behold jedi master Zez-Kai Ell, one of the few jedi leaders who has alluded until recently." The predictable outpour of boos and curses came. Revan allow it to run its course, and let them see the jedi kneel in peaceful, obstinate meditation. He turned.

"In a moment you will meet Ta-Rien, one of the few Malakist radicals to escape the chaos of the fall of Dreshdae." The crate opened and with the blaze of two red sabers as female Zabrak tore out, killing her guard as she came onto the bridge. She sneered at him, the hate rolling off her. She came at him, and the jedi him whipped out his own saber. Their sabers were red and blue, colors that he had made labels of extremism, of the ruin of the past wars.

As he pulled out his own violet saber, he could feel the senator's stunned glares. _Has he gone mad? Facing an enemy in front and behind?_ Revan was happy to let them think him mad; it would make his victory sweeter still. He joined battle with of them cautiously, staying protected by a spinning, turning play on of Soresu augmented by his mastery of Force speed. He held steady while studying his opponents. The Zabrak had the unmistakable stance of a marauder, and she coupled this with the ferocity of Jar-Kai. The jedi too, was ferocious. His form was Juyo, erratic, giving little thought to defense. _He understands that he's dead already, and hopes only to take me with him_.

Revan put on a new burst of speed and switched seamlessly to backhanded Djem So. Ta-Rien went for his knee with her left saber, sensing Revan's shift in form, she kept her right to defend. He parried down and to the right, twirled right to feign an attack to keep the jedi back, and kept the momentum as he took the saber in both hands. He struck up hard, breaking her defense and knocking her off balance. He leaped over, improving his position. The crowd cheered at the triumph of their emperor. Ell backed away, cut off from his quarry by this enemy-ally. The Zabrak stood wild yet frozen, like a trapped animal. She struck at Revan's head and he blocked from the Djem So stance. He swung at waist height, and was parried with both blades. Revan took to defense stance again, but just for an instant. He appeared to make another heavy strike, but switched, letting go with his dominant right hand and allowing his left to swing more freely. He left a long, purposefully shallow black shiim in her thigh. As she screamed the Senate cheered. She opened for another attack, but she was met by force lightening. It pushed her back, hitting the jedi and knocking him off balance. Revan leaped, attempting a falling leaf, but Zez-Kai Ell pushed him in mid flight and caused him to fall short. He shot lightening again, longer and harder, as the jedi blocked it. Neither of them relented. Then, with a scream of cold fire, the Zabrak stabbed him in the back and charged at Revan. She was made stronger by the kill, tighter and less reckless. He engaged with Makashi, foiling, parrying, and flicking his blade. Then he performed a perfect sun djem, destroying her right saber, and then a cho sun, severing her left arm.

Then the Senate cheered louder than they yet had, and she kneeled, clutching her shoulder with pain. Revan retracted his saber. The crowd started to murmur. Revan stopped them prematurely, as he choked the life out of her with The Force, casting her into the depths. It was Dun Möch, the tradition of the sith, on a vast, political scale. Then he spoke with an articulate eloquence that would be the catalyst in crystallizing his point. "May the Force free you, and may the Force be with the Sith Empire!" He reflected on the statement as he left chamber, the cheers at his heels. _The Force shall free me_. Perhaps the senators would find alluding to the code of the sith blatant and insincere, not Mical of course, he was too perspicacious for that, and where Mical led, the others would follow. He wished freedom to the persons, sith freedom, won by passion and power and competition, and unity to the empire, jedi unity forged of discipline. That was his thesis on how the sith should function.

"You spent too much time fighting the radical, you played with her when the jedi received a swift death," was Bastila's obligatory criticism the moment they left the view of the senate.

"Well I didn't kill the jedi, the Zabrak did. If you have any problems, talk to her. By the way, I'm fine, thanks for asking."

"That weakens our position further, you accorded him greater respect. And don't be coy."

"I took him seriously. Zez-Kai held a seat on the council, while Ta-Rien was an unknown. Her presence was symbolic."

"Your forgetting how little the laypeople know about the jedi council, he was just as unknown as she."

"Bastila, we knew that was an uncontrolled situation, and it was a victory, by the way."

"Time will tell. In any event I have a meeting with the Out Rim senators."

"Cancel it. We need to lie low for a day at least. They need to stew with this experience, the people need to talk about it in the cantinas for awhile without anything distracting them."

"Then what shall we do in the meantime?" It was she who was being coy now.

"As for me, I have some paperwork to catch up on."

"You do not."

"Of course I do, with that new twi'lek secretary, the one who wears those bare backed dresses. Do you know her?"

"I know that I will have to kill her, and you to, perhaps."

"To our sparing room then?"

"Yes," and they departed to change out of their dress robes.

oOo

Revan leaned against the wall, dressed in a light combat suit without his mask, as he waited for Bastila. His face showed the lines of middle age, and a few grey hairs had appeared on his head and beard, but he was as driven and strong as ever in his life. For this was his era, the era of one Sith Empire.

"Interruption: Master, it warms my circuits to be in your presence again."

"HK-47! You're a sight for sore eyes old friend. How did Cala do?"

"Report: Your meatbag progenation proved to have many of your innate talents, master, but not so much that I found her easy to anticipate. Qualification: I did, however, manage to predict several of her moves, but she managed to allude me every time I encountered her. I did not engage in direct combat with her until she was near obtaining the checkpoint. At which point she destroyed several security droids that I reprogrammed to destroy her. She also incapacitated me."

"Excellent, she passes."

"Reminiscence: It stirs a feeling of what a meatbag might call melancholy in my behavioral core. When you ordered me to assist in training her to deflect blaster bolts when she was nine, I had never felt such a feeling of ennui. I fell into something of a depression, fighting an inferior meatbag who I knew I was not allowed to kill. But now I could not kill her if I wanted to. Paradox: Yet still I feel a sense of pride in this."

Revan smiled, "Wouldn't have pegged you as the parental pride type HK. Ever consider that we're just getting old?"

"Query: Master, why do you do assign such disgusting meatbag functions as aging and procreation to me?"

Revan laughed. "Where is Cala?"

"Answer: Resting master, I did manage to inflict a few wounds upon her. Query: Why are you here dressed for combat master? Is there someone who you want me to kill?"

"Yes, our esteemed empress takes an hour to get dressed even into her training clothes. You stand at the other side of the room and get ready to shoot her in the back."

"Query: Master as much as it would please me to eliminate her, I have the nagging feeling that you want me to set my rifle to training mode. Is this true?"

"Take a wild guess."

* * *

Can you think of a better wild and crazy uncle than HK-47?


	2. The Daughter of Revan

Originally, I was going to have the fic be about Revan and Bastila, but Cala turned out to be to much fun to write about. Review...

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Cala Shan lay in the medical bay of the imperial residence. Her eyes were her mother's, durasteel grey, and her throat-high hair was her father's, darkest dark brown. She had three blaster burns and five cuts by vibrosword. One had caused a minor puncture of her lung. She groaned. _Dad's going to kill me when he finds out I let that happen._ She didn't want to deal with her parent's demands right now. She wanted get her wounds taken care of so that she could go to her room, watch a holovid in bed, and eat some chocolate. But that was a remote possibility, her parents would probably want her to show them her new practical saber skills learned playing hide and seek with HK- 47 and his hirelings in the slums of Nar-Shaddaa.

She addressed the medical droid. "Can you just get with the dermal regenerator?" The droid was about to answer, but was interrupted by the opening door.

"Cala, my beautiful girl! How are you?" Cala pushed herself up to meet the embrace of her mother. As her mother squeezed, through the pain of her wound, she said, "I've been better."

"I'm proud of you Cala, you emerged from all of the trials so far with flying colors, but the last one will be hardest." Cala flopped her head back down on the pillow. "Do I really need to think about that right now?"

"I'm afraid so, a sith must be ever ready to face challenges." Hate welled up from deep inside her through her overwrought nerves. Cala knew that she was letting her mother manipulate her, make her hate more. That infuriated her further. Bastila smiled at the turmoil she sensed in her daughter.

"Embrace your hatred, it is what allows a sith to keep going where she would otherwise fail."

"Mom, you taught me that when I was six, I get it."

The door opened again, and Revan sauntered in. "Cala, my dear! Welcome home!" Cala sighted, "Hi Dad, how were the senators?"

"Base and fickle as ever. How was Nar-Shaadaa?"

"The same old dreary Hutt's nest."

"Oh, really? Well you've experienced _something_ out of the ordinary." He poked the barely visible budge of band-aids on her rib cage. She released a small cry.

"What's that?"

"It's just a scratch," she growled.

"That's an awful lot of band-aids for just a scratch."

Cala knew that it was pointless to try and carry the avoidance any further. "It's a punctured lung."

"What?"

"It was a Gamorean with a vibroaxe. It got a lucky hit while I was fighting three others."

"I've taken on ten Gamoreans at once while hardly breaking a sweat," Revan scoffed.

"Look Dad, I won your little challenge, I got to the check point on the far side of the moon. You didn't say anything about how many cuts I should or shouldn't have when I got there. If you don't like the result, then too bad; it's too late."

Bastila spoke, "That isn't the point Cala, you are meant to be leader of the sith, you must as strong as possible."

"I get it, I get it. Now can you two just leave me alone for a while?"

"Meet us in the sparring room in an hour, after that, the you have the night off."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," and they left.

Cala breathed a sigh of relief; that had gone better than she expected. But that holovid would have to wait a while longer, she had work of her own to do. She called for her agent, Koth Bwua'tu. Shortly afterward, a tall, elderly Bothan entered the room and spoke to her in a slow, deep voice. "My lady, it gives me gre-"

"I've heard enough of that tonight Koth, we have work to do."

"Of course, I live to serve."

"I need you to connect me to the senator from Hsskor and the Coruscant office of the Bounty Hunter's Guild."

"Would you like to speak to them in person?"

"Yes, in about two hours."

"I will make it so."

oOo

Cala felt the nagging of cold and huddled deeper into her warm blankets. She dimly though about the ship heating system as she tried to slip back into sleep. After two months of exhaustive training she was on her way to face Revan's final challenge to gain the right to succeed him. She didn't know where or what this trial would be, but she knew that it would drip with Revan's sick twisted sense of humor.

"Rise and shine!" Cala snapped up. Revan stood grinning at the foot of her bed. She screamed, "Why are in my roo-" She looked around. It wasn't in her room… She was in a cargo bay! "I had a tranquilizer mixed into your food so that you wouldn't notice your bed being carried down here." Cala scowled, "Just get to the point."

"We are currently flying over Felucia, as soon as you reach the surface the trial will begin. It's the same as last time, you try to get to a check point while being chased."

"I assume it won't be HK this time."

"I couldn't get him down to that mulch heap if I wanted to. I'll be the one doing the chasing."

"You?"

"Me."

With that he started walking away. "Wait! Why did you put me in this cargo hold?" Revan kept walking. He threw her a sack over his shoulder and she caught it. "That's your lightsabers and a homing device; the needle will point to the checkpoint." Cala was growing uneasy. "Dad…" Revan entered a code into a panel. "Good luck Cala."

There was a bellow of awakening machinery, and the floor beneath her split open, the wind screaming. Cala started falling through the upper atmosphere of Felucia, her bed, pillows, and blankets flying around her. She clutched the sack close, despite falling through the air, she was still clear headed enough to know that she was dead without those. The wind stung her through her transparent nightshirt. She slowed herself with the force. She'd never mastered force flight, but she could at least slow herself down to a soft landing. She settled herself into a glide, spiraling down to the dark fungus jungle.

She landed among the slime covered roots of the great colorful funguses. She took a deep breath, trying to quiet her racing heart. She picked up the sack and took out the homer and lightsabers. She ignited them, testing the beams. They didn't appear to be tampered with; Revan had his limits after all. She checked the homer. It seemed to be working too. She looked around. The forest was made up of great fungus trees of every shape and color under a gloomy sky. The acidic smell of spoors and decay filled the still, humid air. And the force… She had read that Felucia's Force alignment changed randomly over time, like the weather. At present it was light side, but it seemed to be tumbling down to the dark side, like a gathering storm. "He's trying to knock me off balance," she said aloud. The natives were adapted to this change, they were primitive and force sensitive, able to maintain a light side alignment despite their home world. They knew this place, they used their power blend into the forest and control its beasts, there were even reports of them riding rancors.

She would need to be fast and resourceful to win. So she cut some bark, or whatever it was, from one of the trees, tore some pieces of fabric from her sleepwear, combined them into some crude scandals, and set off.

oOo

Cala heard the rancors crashing through the fungi. They'd caught up to her again! She scrambled out of the bough she'd been sleeping in. The fear, the adrenalin, the hate, and the desperation mingled with the Felucia's own darkness in a renewed blaze. She'd used it before to set herself to flight, but now, she felt it pulling her towards fight. She reasoned against this, downplaying her hate and embracing fear. To run was the sound choice here, so close to the checkpoint. If nothing else, the muck accumulated in the days running from Revan and his Felucians would help her blend in. Cala ignored the protests of her cramped and recramped muscles and overwrought nerves and ran for all she was worth. But what really scared her was not her pursuers, but the thought that Koth might not come through.

She heard the roar of a rancor to her left, then to her right. She bolted forward, her muscles reinvigorated by the Force, now fueled by a new spike of fear. She then found that she had been herded into a clearing, and a trap. Before her stood at least a dozen black and blue Felucians armed with bone swords. She drew her sabers and charged them. She favored a mix of backhanded shien, the style invented by Revan, and jar'kai; two radically different forms that she combined seamlessly, even in her exhausted state. But this was not enough. These were skilled, Force sensitive warriors with blades made impervious to lightsabers by the Force. She downed one with a falling leaf but quickly found herself giving ground to the Felucians. The Felucians were strong, but Cala was fast and strong. She parried and attacked and counter-attacked with her violet swords (the left one held back-handed, the other forward) against three Felucians taking her from the front while the others circled around her.

Then she fell, pulled down by a massive Force push. All the Felucians were pushing down together; there was no getting up. She was held that way, pressed into the mud, until the rest of the hunting party arrived.

"You put up a good chase Cala. Perhaps I made the challenge too hard." Cala looked up. Revan was stepping down from a howdah on the back of a rancor. He wore a tough leather jacket and felt hat, he was barely touched by mud. Hate coursed through her. He enjoyed this, watching her suffer before failure. He would learn.

"I hope you enjoyed your little safari, father, because now it's over." Her voice was laced with cold hatred. Then she yelled, "Codeword: Traya31415!"

The clearing was suddenly haunted by the hollow moan of personal cloaking devices deactivating.

"_Hissk sascchah gskah!_"

Trandoshans!

They came out through the trees all around them, a hundred of them at least. There was a flash, roar, and a wave of hot air as a thermal detonator exploded at a rancor's feet. Cala's captors broke off and attacked. Felucians were falling left and right to blaster bolts and the Trandoshan's heavy vibroswords. The Rancor that had carried Revan flailed its arms, roaring at the ensuing battle. She saw Revan duck away. Freed from the Felucians, Cala stood up still burning with hate.

Revan hit the mud and flipped up, bringing his saber to bear against fire from the Trandoshans. Sharp despondence hit him. Cala would attack him at any moment, and without him the Feluscians would fail. Damned Trandoshans! They would settle for nothing but to kill him to elevate themselves in the eyes of their god, the Scorekeeper. Then with nothing to stop them, they would kill Cala to. Cala knew that, she knew the Trandoshans, she knew that if the two of them fought they would both be killed by so many of the lizards.

She just wanted him to die. He'd pushed her too hard, it pained him to be so cruel to her, but he feared that if he showed her that reluctance it would dilute her hatred, weakening her. She would never be able to resist her own hatred now, her urge to strike at he who had caused her so much pain, of this he was sure. Thus would ultimately end the Sith Empire he had worked to create, with Emperor and heiress killing each other.

Cala watched her father turn his back to her to block a blaster bolt. Now! Strike him now! She ignited her swords. No! Stick with the plan; leave him to rally the Felucians against the Trandoshans, run away to the checkpoint. But her hate pulled her toward him, unyielding to reason or words. It would be so good to kill him… To pay him back… No! That would serve no purpose! The Empire needed them both. Discipline! Discipline! In a singular moment of strength, she tore herself away.

Revan turned to meet Cala's attack, but it never came. He just saw her as she disappeared running into the wood. Revan's heart soared. A lone Trandoshan swung a sword at him and he cut the lizard in half. He laughed.

"See how my daughter masters her own passion! She is strong enough to master her own strength! What man could ask for a better daughter, a better pupil?"

oOo

Cala lay languished on the ground beside the checkpoint beacon. She was absolutely completely exhausted, but her veins still flowed with so much residual adrenalin and her head still swam with so many images of fight and flight that she couldn't sleep. So she just lay, with eyes open, feeling her aching muscles and her breathing. Then she sensed the arrival of Revan.

He had a few scratches and his left leg seemed to have taken a blaster bolt, but he was not seriously injured. Cala rose unsteadily to her feet, looked him in the eye, and punched him across the mouth, leaving a muddy splotch.

"I deserved that."

"I hate you."

"Cala…"

"Don't say anything! You enjoyed your victory, your false regret, your throwing me out of the ship! None of that was necessary! You just love watching me suffer!" As she demanded, Revan said nothing, but rather let down his emotional wall, the wall of dignity and smug composer, revealing his inner conflict. She felt the pain that it caused him to hurt her, the pride that he felt at her decision, the fear he'd felt that she wouldn't pass his challenge, and his eternal, fatherly love.

With this added to her own boiling passions, she gave in. She let out a pitiable, sobbing moan and fell into her father's arms, burying her head in his chest as she cried. He stroked her muddy hair gently.

"Ssshhh, ssshhh, I'm hear, I'm hear."

oOo

"… The weapon of the Sith is one that by its nature erratic and unpredictable. This leads to a strength and a weakness; it allows the Sith to experiment freely to understand and use the living Force, but drives Sith to actions that often contradict the path of logic, leading to…"

Cala sighed and pushed the sleep button on the holobook. Nothing was helping her make sense of her feelings. She rolled over in bed, staring into the blackness. Something had changed her on the surface of Felucia. Refusing to kill Revan, being driven on forever by Felucia's darkness, learning about Revan's love for her. Something had widened the world in which she lived; there was more than the one-dimensional relationship between passion and power. Discipline, the discipline to turn away from striking Revan, had also granted her strength. But why? How? It didn't fit in the context of sith thinking.

That scarred her. Was she slipping into a jedi mentality? No! Never. That was absurd. She was a sith, she was heiress to the _Dark Lord_ of the Sith. She got up and sat at the end of her bed.

"I don't get it!" she yelled in the dark. This place… it made her nervous to think about deviance. Her responsibility to the empire and her family weighed heavily upon her here. She remembered something she'd once found in the depths the imperial archives, a shadow of a long deleted file on the topic of the imperial family. It was about Vaner, Vaner Shan, first born of Bastila and Revan.

The official story went that Vaner was born shortly after her parent's marriage on Lehon, and was killed before his first birthday by a Republic assassination. But in that file Cala found something else, a medical examination by a sith master that found Vaner not to be sensitive to the Force. Throughout his short life, Vaner's amazing aptitude for the Force, even as an infant, was celebrated by the Imperial Propaganda Ministry. No assassination attempt had ever gotten so close to the emperor before or since. Cala became certain of one thing. Rather than face the scandal of producing a child deaf to the Force, her parents chose to engineer an assassination to get rid of him.

She never confronted her parents over it, she would never dare. She was even more scarred now. Would her parents do away with a child who turned away from Revan's teachings, a confirmed heir? No, they wouldn't, not her. But…

"I'm not betraying Father, I'm a true sith down to the bone!" She hoped she was anyway.

oOo

The imperial family took breakfast together in one of the palace's elegant dining rooms. Elegant but small. The room had one round table set for three and a widow looking out over Coruscant's most affluent residential district. That morning, Revan was gone to Muunlist to work out a loan to help the empire finally buy out Czerka Corporation. Cala sipped her tea as Bastila read the morning memos. Cala took a deep breath, "Mom?"

"Yes sweetheart?"

"I'm eighteen years olds and… I think I should get away from here for a bit, see the Galaxy myself."

Bastila put down the datapad. "You what go on a tour?"

"No. I want to be turned loose, no entourage, no imperial ships, no retinue, just me finding my own way."

"What do you plan to do?"

"No idea."

"Is there a reason you chose to exclude your father from this conversation?"

"I just came up with this last night."

"Then maybe you need more time to think."

"So, no."

Bastila sighed, "You _are_ eighteen, and I know that you can take care of yourself. I suppose you are also old enough to make your own decisions. You can do as you wish, but I would prefer if you waited at least until your father returns."

"No, I want to leave right away, no looking back."

"Then you may go."

That evening, Cala discreetly left the palace with five hundred credits, a vibroblade, her lightsabers, and a long hooded coat. She booked passage on a Perlemian Trade Route freighter to Lianna. From there she would search for a light side nexus, somewhere imbued by the jedi. It felt wrong to her, going there. But at once she felt a deep, almost carnal, need to go to a place strong in the light side and… feel it.


	3. The Ups and Downs of Lianna

Lianna was one of the greatest urban planets in the Outer Rim and Cala hoped that it would have a good library of books on regional history, those might give a hint to some light side nexus. Before she could find out, she found that the planet had high rents. So, she descended to the lower levels that all city planets had it search of a place to crash.

She entered the foyer of an apartment building a bit more than half way down. A well-dressed Squalris man addressed a droid at the front desk and shouted, "Look C7, a flaming jedi has come to visit us!" He laughed at his own joke. He was, of course, referring only Cala's brown coat and cowl, but it sent a chill up her spine anyway. She through back her hood and forced a smile. "Greetings, my name is Fryna Talon. I'm looking for a room. Are you the owner of this establishment, sir?"

"Oh, no, I work for the droid." He laughed again.

"Then perhaps I'll just pay it in spare parts." Cala knew something Squalrises; they could never stand for even the joke that threatened their profit. He laughed, but not with the same boisterousness.

"What's your price range?" he asked.

"One hundred credits for a month."

"Son of Xer! I charge four hundred and fifty a month."

"I just arrived on world, I have little money."

"A virgin to Lianna are we? That's alright, where from?"

"Jomark."

"Ah, a beauty of the sea! Don't fear home sickness, we have fine oceans on Lianna, fine places to buy a bathing suit."

_Virgin, beauty, bathing suit; is he being lewd on purpose?_ "A pity I can't afford any sea view property." She said impatiently.

"Oh, love, we are so fortunate, I am invited to a party tonight down by the sea and I haven't got a date. Why don't you coming along?"

"Sir, I don't even know your name."

"It's Quiim. And I'll tell you what, save me the embarrassment of showing up alone and I'll give you your first month's rent free." Cala studied him. Was he trying to exploit her? Or did he genuinely just want a beautiful girl at his side at the party? Either way, Cala didn't feel threatened by the man.

"I'm hardly dressed for a party."

"I'll provide you with a dress of course."

"Alright, it's a fair arrangement."

"Good! Take this passkey, and just enter your measurements into this datapad."

She did so and retired to her room. It was small and undecorated, but it had a bed and a half decent refresher. She took a short nap, and later a shower. Afterwards, a droid came to her door with an outfit for her. She took it and frowned. She could tell that it was too form fitting to hide a weapon under. She'd planned to take the vibroblade, but that couldn't be concealed. She put on the dress and decided to strap the lightsabers to her left leg. She didn't want to take them; news of anyone killed by lightsaber would blow her cover quite badly. She sighed. Did she really need to go armed? Was she really going to kill anyone? No, she was being paranoid, or maybe she just wasn't used to the idea of going out without needing to kill people. She wouldn't need a weapon unless faced with a small army anyway; her force powers were strong. She put the sabers away. She looked at herself in the mirror.

The dress was beautiful, especially after she applied some matching eye shadow and other makeup. It stood in stark contrast to the tough, utilitarian clothes she had worn the past few days. The dress didn't really surprise her either. It was slick blue silk with bare arms, bare shoulders, a bare back, a very low v neckline, and a gap that effectively left her right leg bare. In was just modest enough that she wouldn't be mistaken for one of the dancing girls.

Quiim showed up, presenting a beefy elbow and complimenting her on her beauty. He led her to luxury speeder, politely opened the door for her, and ordered the driver to the top floor of a dock-straddling apartment building. Cala immediately enjoyed the party. It wasn't full of the over-dressed, contriving, aged politicians and admirals she was used to seeing at parties. These were a diverse collection of local well-to-dos. The music was good, upbeat and full of energy. The food was served on an informal buffet.

She knew little the affairs of Lianna, but, determined not to be a dumb, pretty little thing, she spoke intelligently on the matters of the wider galaxy. She spoke up for giving Mandalore full status as an Imperial world with its own senator on the grounds that in would further pacify them. She got into a heated discussion with a Chadra-Fan about the way the upcoming swoop-racing season would play out. Most of the dances she was with Quiim, but she also managed to sneak a few with a cute Duros. As the party winded down the Duros bade her farewell with a kiss on the hand.

"Be well, friend traveler, and may our paths cross again," she said.

Quiim led her back to the speeder and they set out back to their building. He chuckled and muttered to himself the whole way, having had plenty to drink. Cala had touched none of the stuff; her parents, probably just hoping to add to her annoyance and hate, had never allowed her to drink alcohol before, and she felt she could find a better point to start. When they returned and Cala thanked Quiim for everything before turning to leave, he stopped her.

"Fryna… you've not enjoyed any wine tonight! Come with me to my chamber and I'll show you some proper stuff." Cala responded slowly.

"Quiim, you're a very nice man and you have been too kind to me. But I'm sorry, I won't." She tensed, unsure how he would react. _If he try's to grope me…_

But he just sighed. "Very well, I'm a man of my word, you're free for a month." He then immediately perked up and laughed. "Oh well, more wine for me!" and he walked off.

"I'll return the dress."

"Yes, yes!"

And Cala walked away feeling happy and dignified. _Not killing people works after all_, she thought

oOo

Cala searched the pages of the holobook. Her patience was wearing thin. She was happy to find a free library, but almost every history book seemed to be about the Xim Empire, which Lianna had never even been part of. Xim the Despot, the son of a pirate lord and ruler of a secular empire, held few promises for either leaving or revealing light side nexuses in his wake.

The few other planets she could come up with records of were worse than nothing. Stenos and Makem Te were both populated by violent, fanatic races. Ossus had been rendered a barren wasteland decades ago by Exar Kun's empire. It was an even more cheery prospect on Raxus, a landfill planet. Encouragingly, Felucia and Korriban were near by as well. _Perhaps I'll pay those worlds a visit; I'm sure to find what I'm looking for there_.

Cala's free month was almost over and she didn't want get a real job just yet. She laid the holobook aside and looked through her stack for another. _Obscure Worlds of the Northern Outer Rim_ read one of the titles. She woke it up and looked through the index.

_76\. Jomark: The Simple Fishmen's Lot_

_77\. Vjun: Land of Acid and Extremes_

_78\. Stenos: Canyons, Spires, and Angry Locals_

_79\. Rhen Var: Cold and Still as It's Jedi's Hearts_

Rhen Var? _It's_ jedi? She searched it and came to a page with a picture of an ice-covered planet. "Rhen Var was once a fertile paradise filled with vegetation and wild life. Roughly five thousand years ago, an atmospheric cataclysm turned it into an icy hibernal surface. Since then, it has been a frigid world of frozen tundra and snow swept mountains. The planet, located in the Outer Rim's Thanium system orbits the star Tor and has a day of 18 standard hours and the year is 563 standard days. The planet is at galactic coordinates R-6. The jedi once had a temple on the surface. According to coreward data banks, the temple was located in an alpine equatorial region, making it highly likely that the temple has survived the planet's rolling glaciers."

She searched the computer for other references to Rhen Var. There weren't many, but all of them agreed: there were jedi ruins there. They all cited a hand full of ancient jedi censuses, those were infallible; there were, or at least had been, jedi artifacts on Rhen Var. But it seemed that no one had bothered to look for the ruins for thousands of years. Cala stood, pulled her hood up and walked off. She would need to hire a ship with a competent crew and a good set of sensors. She felt the credit chips in her coat pocket. She had limited her eating as much as she could, and had avoided transport fairs as much as possible. She had $398 left, if that wasn't enough, and it probably wouldn't be, she would need to finally get a real job. Well, not a real job, she would probably become a bounty hunter or something.

She descended on an elevator. She went past the level of her apartment into the truly shady part of town. The air was dark and hazy with a mix of industrial fumes. Window lights burned through it with a harsh glare. The elevator stopped and a Twi'lek got on. Cala addressed him as the doors closed. "Where can I find a light transport ship to hire?" The Twi'lek glared down at her through a prosthetic eye. "Put up a query at the Freighter's Jobs Board."

"Where's that?"

"Look it up on one of the terminals."

"Or you could just tell me."

"Leave me alone schutta." And he got off. _Everyone down here is going to be like that aren't they_, she thought.

oOo

Her footfalls were silent, her body was a mist, her breath was nonexistent; she was cloaked in the Force. She saw much, but none saw her. The open streets of the lower city were the perfect place for Force stealth. Holograms danced, lights glared, matte figures ambled by, some silent, some shouting, some muttering. All were deaf to Cala.

She ducked behind a man as he showed his ID to a guard and passed inside a building. She got to a stair well and passed a female Mandalorian guard. She squinted at the tiny ripple Cala made, and reached for her comlink. Cala whispered, "_You've had a long day; your eyes are playing tricks on you; a false alarm will get you in terrible trouble,_" and the guard relaxed. She passed more levels, more guards and convinced them similarly until she met a blast door. She could cut her way through with lightsabers, but that would bring the entire compound down on her. But was that really such a bad thing? These weren't very well organized or professional guards. She looked up at the lights. Perhaps she could create some confusion. As discreetly as possible, she removed one of the wall's spotty panels to reveal a collection of wires. She dropped her stealth field and forced as much lightning as she could muster into it. Lights began to pop and the walls spat sparks. Cala pushed the tip of her lightsaber against blast door and the metal slowly started to glow and deform. The door weakened, now the saber fully penetrated it. She started the slow, hard process of cutting a hole in the door. She heard shouting down the hall, it was getting closer. _Come on, come on,_ She thought as she continued cutting.

"It's a sith! Shoot her! Shoot her!" Cala pulled her saber from the wall and ignited her other to meet the blaster fire. One, then two, then three were brought down with their own blaster bolts. "Grenades!" Shouted their captain. The momentary pause as they grabbed their grenades was all she needed. Lightening leapt from her fingers and her enemies flew back charred. She resumed cutting the door until a thick slab of metal fell inward. She stepped into an office and threw a desk aside, revealing a whimpering blue mass.

"I'll p-p-pay you anything, d-d-don't hurt me!" squealed a Gossam with an ornate prostatic hand.

"Come with me and I won't hurt you." She kneed down. "Climb on my back and hold on." The quivering Gossam obeyed. Cala cut a hole in the office's window.

"I'm serious; hold on," and she jumped out, gliding to the ground below.

oOo

"Sentient, are you chief Orno of the LSF?"

Orno looked up from his pazaak game to see a hooded young woman with a duffle bag.

"Please, if you have any problems, direct them to my office; I'm off duty."

"You'll want to make an exception in this case."

"Why?"

Cala addressed the Ithorian sitting opposite the chief. "Leave."

"But…"

"Leave, or I'll give you a third mouth to scream out of."

"Hey, don't threaten my friend," Orno said.

"I have word on Sho Min."

"You and a dozen other people." Cala pulled something from her coat and put it on the table. It was a small prostatic hand adorned with gold and jewels. Orno glared at it.

"I'll catch you next week Torma," he said to the Ithorian.

"All right, if you say so."

Cala sat down. "All right miss, what's you game? How did you get Min's hand?" Cala said nothing, but simply placed one of her lightsabers on the table.

"So it's true, Min was taken by a sith."

"By me."

"Alright, are you trying to give him to us?"

"I'm trying to sell him."

"We don't want him."

"Why not? He's a crime lord."

"Yes, and why do you think we haven't stormed his compound like you did? He has contacts way higher up than me."

"Would you like me to simply kill him then?"

"Well… yes, there isn't any other way of getting rid of him. But why? Why are you going to all this trouble for us?"

"It's simple, I need to hire a ship and I have little money to do it. I thought I'd do something useful to get it."

"Ah, how much money are we talking?"

"Thirty thousand credits."

"Are you hiring a whole fleet?"

"In unmarked credit chips."

"Fine, where do we make the exchange?"

"I'll wait here, you fetch me the money."

"You won't see a single decicred if I don't see his head." Cala unzipped the duffle bag.

"Say hello Sho," and she yanked the protesting lizard out.

"Do you recognize him?" Orno starred dumbfounded.

"…Yes, that's him." She stuffed him back in.

"Bring me the money, make up whatever excuse you need, bring it here, I break his neck, the body turns up in a gutter somewhere, and I fall off the map. Agreed?"

"Agreed."


	4. Oren

Cala's comlink buzzed. "Report," she answered. "I think we got something ma'am. You might want to have a look at it."

"On my way." Cala left her quarters and went to the bridge. Six thousand of her thirty thousand credits had got her a top of the line ship with good sensors and a professional crew. On the bridge she addressed the captain. "What have you found?"

"A group of structures in the eastern mountain range," he pointed to a hologram.

"What kind of structures?"

"Old ones, not some recently abandoned settlement. They're made of local stone."

"Good. What about the surface, is there much life on the planet?"

"Life readings are relatively low, but there is definitely a strong biosphere on the planet."

"Prepare a landing party, and get me a long term survival kit."

"Do you intend to stay down there?"

"That remains to be seen captain."

Cala felt the ship shake down through the atmosphere as she returned to her quarters. Soon she was called to the armory to receive her equipment. She and the crewmen were given winter clothing and she received a large backpack. The ramp lowered, and they stepped to the surface.

There was no doubt about it; this was a jedi temple. The ship was moored on a ledge of a barren grey mountain. Below them was a glacier filled valley, and above, an acropolis citadel with statues, domes, arches, and stairways hewn from the mountain rock.

"It's a place of the dead. Reminds me of the Tract on Makem Te," said a Swokes Swokes crewman. "You'd be surprised how hard it is to render a jedi's influence dead," Cala said.

"Lets get up there."

They hiked up the mountainside. It was steep and covered in loose stones, but Rhen Var's gravity was light, only seventy five percent standard. As they came up one of the stairways, a crewman asked, "What exactly are we looking for ma'am?"

"None of your business." She knelt down, and listened to the Force. She felt a sense of peace and clarity, like ice, as she delved deeper into the Force. This was the light side, what she was looking for. She stood up and addressed the men.

"Someone get me a holopad." She was handed one and she patched through to the captain.

"Fryna, is something wrong?"

"I wish to make a new purchase from you."

"What of?"

"One of your shuttles. I think two thousand in unspecified credit is quite fair."

"Wait, you want one of my shuttles? Do you mean that you're staying here?"

"Yes. Leave the shuttle by your landing place. Your services will no longer be required then."

"Well, if you want to, I'll oblige."

"Good, I'll give the credits to your crewmen. Fryna Talon out." Cala watched as a shuttle was lower from the freighter. She then pulled out ten two hundred credit chips, handed them to a crewman and they departed. Cala looked back to the ruins. Now she could feel the light side and use the shuttle to depart when she wished. She devoted less than half a thought to what she would do then.

She heard the ship's engine warming up. She looked back to watch the ship take off. They were taking the shuttle back on board. _The damnable traitors! They're taking my money and leaving me here to freeze!_ In spite of the placidity of the planet, Cala burned with rage. She threw down her bag, ignited her sabers and took a huge jump, overcoming the weak gravity, down the steep slope to the ship. _They're bantha fodder_. The Swokes Swokes looked up and screeched in terror as Cala eviscerated him with a falling leaf. One of his companions shot at her desperately. He fell with one eye replaced with a burned crater. The shuttle was still being drawn up into the ship by an elevator in its belly. Cala leapt onto the shuttle and into the cargo hold. Not waiting to be noticed, she unleashed lightening upon occupants.

Cala fought on, through the hallway, facing pitiful and uncoordinated resistance. She spared no one she met. She knew that there were some who escaped her, cowering in their rooms or in unvisited halls. She would deal with them in time, but now she made for the bridge. She found its doors sealed shut. As strong as they were, they crumpled under the Force. The bridge crew met her with a storm of blaster bolts. She deflected them as she elegantly cut them down, and when the captain stood alone, she spoke. "You fool, you defied our fair deal when I was prepared to leave you all living." He was about to speak, but Cala took him by the throat, dangling him in the air.

She had planned to give him a long, torturous death. But now… Why? What was the point? She should kill him now so she could get about her other business. She swiftly snapped his neck and departed down the hall.

Then it hit her.

The planet's alignment! That's what quelled her hate. She was suddenly terrified. She'd planned to find and experience the light side. But she hadn't given enough critical thought to how this would affect her. She didn't really even know if she wanted to _turn_ to the light side or just _feel_ it, or if there was even any real difference.

She straightened. She would solve that issue later. She had more than enough hate left in her to clean out the ship. So she set out, stalking and striking, killing without mercy. She tracked them with the Force, it steered her toward every last living thing on the ship whose captain had abused her trust.

When she finished the last of them off, she shut down the ship's power and started the hike back up to the citadel. She pondered the Force deeply, examining paradoxes within herself, confidant that all her enemies on this planet were dead.

But even as she thought this, she was watched from above by a face masked in goggles and winter fabrics. It's owner, had Cala scrutinized, would shine brighter in the light side than the deepest sanctuary of the temple.

oOo

Cala sat down and meditated. Or at least she tried. Meditation on the light side was a battle against one's base urges, the meditation she was used to consisted of spiteful recitations of injuries and misfortunes. She approached the light side with more confusion than caution. It seemed to behoove calm and peace, so she tried to conform as best she could.

"Who _are_ you?" asked a male voice behind her. Cala wheeled around and ignited her sabers. A figure in a tattered suit of winter gear stood before her. "Please, I don't want to fight you, just listen." She didn't. She felt vulnerable, her connection to the Force was twisted and out of balance thanks to her adventurous meditation. She struck with lightening. Cala was immediately appalled at how weak the bolt was even before it reached its target. When it did, Cala's appall turned to horror.

He blocked the bolt with his hand and whipped out a saber staff, its blades ignited green. A jedi! He snapped to soresu stance. _Passive and defense minded; his type proved their weakness in the Mandalorian Wars. I'll deal with him easily enough._ She struck at his right kneel, and was blocked. She struck at his head, and was blocked. She struck at his right elbow, and was blocked. Cala struck with all her fury, but it was somehow a hollow fury, a small, stifled fury. Her blows were sloppy, her reactions sluggish. Her blocks would have left minced, but the jedi refused to strike. She struck again and again and again but to no avail. Her cries turned from anger to frustration, and then to pitiful desperation.

Then she fell to her kneels with hung head and said, "What do want?" He responded in a strong, even voice.

"That is what I was wondering about you. You're a sith, and I don't just mean in the color of you lightsabers. You turned on the crew of that ship in cold blood, killing all of them, and yet you are here meditating on the light side. Are you trying to turn?"

"Your guess is as good as mine; I have no idea what I'm doing."

"That is apparent. Who are you? What is your name?" She sighed.

"I could tell you that I'm a drifter named Fryna Talon."

"But?"

"But I'm not, I'm the one and only Cala Shan." Cala took some small amusement in the frozen silence that over took him.

"Let me see your face." She lifted her head.

"Hoping to see some resemblance to my father?" she joked dryly; few people knew what the emperor looked like under the mask.

"I cannot see why you would lie to me in such an odd way. But you will have to forgive me; I have been somewhat detached from galactic affairs these last few months. Did you fail your trials, are you in exile?"

"No, I passed them. But…"

"What is it?"

"Nothing, it's none of you business."

"A strange thing for the loser of a duel to say."

"Do you intend to torture an answer out of me?"

"I sense your embarrassment, you hide a moment of weakness from me."

"Before I talk any more, who are you? What's your story?"

"I am just as I appear; a jedi, who refused to fall to the dark side and has thus far eluded the sith on this remote planet of ruins and ice."

"Let me see your face." He removed his coverings. His face was not hardened by age; he couldn't have been more than twenty. He had a round face with relaxed, placid features, thoughtful hazel eyes, and thick eyebrows. His hair was light brown bound into a ponytail. He radiated calm and security. He sat down before her.

"You're awfully young to have lived through the purge."

"I was born just when Malak came to power and trained by a refugee master as the sith came to power. As the jedi and Republic passed away around us I lost confidence in my master and drifted away. I suppose that has a certain symmetry to it."

"What?"

"My master lost confidence in me in those years, he was very traditional jedi and the world I grew up in had no place for his type of thinking."

"What, did you sympathize with my dad?"

"No, I've disapproved of him since the day I first heard of him. But he was right about the order, the High Council in particular. They grew complacent, narrow minded, even fanatic, they lost the true meaning of the Light Side of the Force."

"And you know this 'true meaning' do you?" He smiled irenically.

"I satisfied your question, now you satisfy mine."

"Fair enough. I endured dad's final trial on Felucia. I had to run halfway across the planet while he led a small army of savages and rancors after me."

"Severe."

"He's the tough love kind. Anyway, he caught me up in an ambush. Luckily, I had cheated, which dad had been hoping I would, and paid for some Trandoshans to surround any such ambush. When I let them at it, I was left with… with a choice. I could run away and win, or I could try to kill dad, giving the Trandoshans a chance to kill both of us."

"Forgive me, but that seems like an obvious choice."

"Not for a sith. Passion demanded that I kill dad, I _hated_ him, he put me through that and many other painful trials with his smug self-satisfaction."

"You chose discipline over passion."

"Yeah, and I got so bugged over how I was stronger for resisting passion that I was taken by the whim to come out here and feel pure discipline in the Force; the light side."

"What then?"

"I honestly didn't get that far."

"I see."

"Now won't you tell me about your idea of the light side?"

"Very well. The council and the conservative upper levels of the jedi saw the light side as defined by its doctrine, its stability and order."

"But it is."

"That is the prevalent thinking, but it is over-simplistic. The light side and dark side are defined by selflessness and selfishness, order and entropy are the two sets of shoes used to walk those paths, they are means to ends. Selflessness is an advanced state of mind, an artificial one that goes against the most basic instinct of any species; to help one's self. It therefore requires discipline to follow faithfully. Selfishness is a primitive state of mind that appeals to all but the most sentimental instincts. It needs no discipline to be followed, and is in fact encumbered by it. And with discipline comes doctrine, and with doctrine comes conservativism, and with conservativism comes order. And thus the inverse with the lack of discipline. The jedi focused too much on discipline itself, they focused on the shoes rather than the road, to the exclusion of everything else, even compassion. That is why they grew so unpopular, they lost their way." Cala couldn't help but marvel at him. What he said made so much sense, it brought dimly understood connection into focus. She believed it, after just hearing she believed every word he had said. It widened her world.

"Are you an acolyte of a new order? Who is your leader?"

"No, I am truly wayward, alone. My words are mine alone. I have not had the chance to share my incites of the light side with anyone until now."

"Well then, I am honored to be first to hear from such a great philosopher."

"Do you mean that sarcastically?"

"I definitely should after all the sith philosophy books I've read. But for some reason, I don't. I believe you."

He was about to speak, but Cala held up a hand to silence him. "Before you same anything else, what's your name?"

"Forgive me, I have been rude. My true name has become a stranger to me, I have lived in secrecy so long. I am Oren Halsi."

"It's good to meet you."

"It is better to meet you. You have, without any prompting or teaching, chosen to convert from the dark to the light, that is remarkable, it speaks of your character, you are meant to be of the light side."

"Again I believe you." She took a deep breath. "Oren… I do embrace the light side, but I need help to learn it. Will you become my teacher, my master?"

"Yes Cala, I will be your master and you my padawan. Our destiny could not be clearer."

oOo

Oren hiked up and beyond the ruins, leading Cala to his camp, a cave high in the mountains. "Why don't you live in the ruins? The light side felt strongest there."

"Did you ever have a meditation chamber Cala?" Cala grappled with what tense to put her answer in.

"I… _did_."

"Was it strong in the dark side?"

"Yes."

"So it made you feel stronger."

"Yes."

"Then why did you not live in it?"

"… I had other things to do."

"Why not do them in the chamber?"

"I don't know… it would have been strange. It would be like having a dark cloud hanging over me the whole time."

"Exactly, and I am struck in the face with a beam of light. I was trained as a jedi consular, a healer and intellectual, a meditater, yet still that would distract me."

As they kept walking, they came to the cave. The entrance was small and screened with furs, so the inside was quite warm. Cala was surprised at the inside. There was an even floor, arched ceiling, electric lighting, a stairway to a second level, and several partitioned rooms cut out of the rock. "When I first came here I thought living in a frozen cave would be noble. I could constantly test my self control by refusing to make it more comfortable."

"But you changed your mind?"

"Yes. The effort it took keep alive in here could be better spend, so I dusted off my lightsaber and cut rooms in the place. I also narrowed the entrance with some stone blocks I welded together."

"Well I'm thankful you did that."

"I still spend a few hours a day meditating in the cold. You will join me in that before long."

"Whatever it takes."

"Good. I don't have an empty room for you. Would you prefer to be put up in the larder or the supply room?"

"Supply room."

"Very well, it is here on the left." The room was full of tanned furs, tools, knives, clothing, and other equipment. Oren pointed to the hides. "You may use those to make a mat, they are quite comfortable." Cala couldn't help a sidelong glance.

"Is something wrong Cala?"

"If you've been living out here alone for years, why are you still so courteous, so amiable."

Oren smiled. "I'm not a total recluse. I have a small ship that I take every once in a while to trade furs for supplies. But you may not find me so likable soon."

"Why not?"

"Lay out the skins and you will see." She did so.

"You will not sleep on those tonight. You will sleep on the bare floor."

"What? Why?"

"It will be your first test of discipline."

"But-"

"You will not question my judgment padawan, not if you are devoted to mastering the light." Cala gritted her teeth.

"As you wish master."

"I will depart to my chamber now. I give you this time to settle in." He stepped out the doorway and left.

Cala sighed sharply. Oren was right of course. To follow the light side she would need to learn such self control. _I never thought this would be easy, but… blaster bolts, this is going to be hard_.

oOo

"You have made great progress padawan."

_Not really, after three months I still can't keep under control,_ Cala thought.

"Now comes the stage where you must find the strength within yourself to continue down the path of light. You must face your basic instincts and overcome them. If you do not succeed the first time then there is no shame in admitting that you need further training."

_No training so far has really changed me. Even he knows that, I can hear it in his consultations, I frustrate him, and he's running out of ideas on how to turn me._

"You stay here, braced against the cold of Rhen Var, and contemplate the light side, enforce it upon yourself and accept it."

"I will tr-tr-try, master."

"Good. Return to camp when you feel you have accomplished this goal. May the Force be with you Cala." And he departed.

Cala sat on a mountain ledge in nothing but a light linen robe. She shivered violently, trying to maintain serenity while warming herself with the Force. She recited the jedi code.

"Th-th-there is n-no em-m-motion, there is p-p-p-pease

There i-i-is no ign-n-nor-a-ance th-there is-s kn-nowledge

There-ere is-s no pa-passion, th-there i-is-s sereni-ty-ty

Th-there-ere is no ch-ch-chaos, there is h-harmon-ony

Th-th-there is no d-death…"

She paused, trying to steady her seething passions.

"th-there is this bloody code and this damned frozen planet!" She screamed, and empowering her scream was the Dark Side of the Force. Rocks fell around her as she shook the mountain. Then she collapsed, drowned in shame.

She failed even the most basic of Oren's lessons on the light side. They were somehow pushing her back to the dark side. She reviled herself for her selfishness, but she couldn't bring herself to quit putting self first, she had always thought about everything in terms of herself. Oren had tried to teach her the discipline to embrace compassion alone, but it was no use. She could control her base passions, but never, never abandon them. She would never truly embrace the light, she was sure.

Nevertheless she tried to focus on the planet's presence in the Force, she tried to make it mingle with her own, but she couldn't. The more she tried to mix with the planet, the more obvious the incompatibility was. She was oil in water. Then she looked in on herself for any sign that she was closer to the light side. On the outside she was, but only because of her straining toward it and the influence of Oren and Rhen Var. Deeper, at her core, she was dark, purely, permanently dark.

"I am evil!" She cried. "Curse me, damn me, I can never walk in the light, I will always languish in darkness. I am not worthy of the light. I am nothing." And so sat for a long time, warmed by the dark side, brooding in depression and self-loathing.

She didn't want Oren to see her this way, wallowing in the darkness. She didn't want to see him at all, she was unworthy. She was not even worthy to dwell on a planet strong in the light side, she defiled it with her sacrilegious darkness. She thought it right to kill herself, but her darkness would not allow her; it drove her to keep living. Instead she decided to leave the planet. So, she avoided Oren's camp in a wide circle and made her way to the ship cleared out three months ago. Icicles hung from it and it was peppered with snow. Beneath the ship, shielded from being covered with snow, was the paled, frozen corpse of the Swokes Swokes, he who had reminisced about his home world and screamed in terror before being cut down. She had little cared then, but now that she had tried and failed to learn the light side, and come to use the dark side only with shame and guilt, she cried at the sight of it, reminded what unshakable evil lay within her.

She powered up the shuttle for launch and took off. She looked back on the icy world. _I'm sorry Oren; it was not my destiny after all._


	5. Light and Dark

"Lay down a card or stay!" Cala rasped

"I'm thinking."

"You've thought long enough!"

"The human's right, move Quermian," a Xexto said.

"Fine, plus two. That gives me eighteen."

Cala looked into the mind of the over-adorned Wroonian. She had fourteen on the table and a six in her hand. _Save it, let the others spend their hands_, Cala put in her mind.

"I'll stay." Cala smirked venomously and gulped her drink.

"Plus one makes nineteen," said the Xexto

"I've got four. That gives me twenty," Cala said, taking a drag on her cigara.

"That's the fourth game, she's cheating!" the Quermian said. Cala gave the Xexto a spike of annoyance.

"No one that drunk can cheat at pazaak."

"Pay up. A hundred creds a piece."

Cala collected her winnings and departed. She passed the wanted poster of herself. She scowled, pulled a death stick out of her pocket, opened it, and drank the foul liquid unmixed. Colors and shapes started blurring, lines twisted, colors danced, pleasure shot through her body. How long had it been since that had been put up? How long had Revan been looking for her? How long had she been on The Wheel? She couldn't remember, and didn't try.

She was in no danger of being recognized from that picture, she had changed. Her skin, once even and supple, had turned sallow, leathery, and sunken. The veins of her hands were clearly visible and dark from use of tempest spice. Her hair was thinned, greasy and unkept. She posture was off, her joints stiff. Her grey eyes had turned yellow rimmed with red.

The liquor, the smoke, the glitterstim, the ryll, the tempest, and the death sticks would have killed most people by now, but not Cala Shan. Her tortured body was driven inexorably by the dark side, heart was kept pumping long after it should have ceased, neurons still fired in her brain long after they should have died. Her addictions were just another kind of passion, they gave her the will to master the dark side, and with it she purged her tissues of toxins and stimulated her vital organs to life. The death sticks would normally weaken power in the Force, but she had so harnessed the will to acquire more of them that she could protect herself from the effect.

Her's was a miserable existence, an endless cycle of theft and cheating followed by rapturous highs followed by pain and sickness and craving. But under toning all of it was the still raw shame of her own darkness, and everything she did scrapped that raw stop mercilessly. The entire galaxy was caustic to her.

"Get a move on miss," a Twi'lek security guard said. Partially roused from her hallucinogenic stupor, Cala found herself slumped in a corner of a street of casinos. Their extravagant lights marked them as particularly up scale. Or maybe that was just the death sticks.

"Leave me alone."

"Move or be moved schutta."

Cala hissed at him and stood up shakily. "Leave me alone or I'll make you eat your own lekku."

He leveled his blaster. "Last chance before I blast you, scram!" She cast his blaster aside and grabbed his heart within his chest, squeezing it. He clutched at his chest and his skin flushed with the blood. She squeezed harder, and she felt the tissues strain. He started coughing violently, blood spewed from his mouth, and he fell.

"Man down!" shouted a Duros in a guard uniform as he ran over. "What happened?" he leveled his blaster. Cala was growing annoyed, but now favored flight over fight. She waved a hand.

"I have nothing to do with this, I can go."

"You have nothing to do with this, you can go."

Cala descended to the poorer districts of The Wheel to find a corner in which her pleasures would not be disturbed. She had been forced to purge most of the hallucinogenics from her system and felt cheated out of her high, so she was hungry to compensate herself. She reached for a death stick, and panic gripped her. Her pocket was empty! She search her coat wildly for more, a look of primitive desperation filled her eyes. Then she found one in a lower pocket. She hugged it close to her heart. Could she mix it some ryll? Or tempest maybe? Yes, that would be divine. She opened the death stick.

It flew from her hand. "That is the last one of those you will ever touch Cala." She turned. Before her stood Oren Halsi.

"_You!_" She didn't want him to be here. She didn't want to exist in the same galaxy as him. Such shame… Why was he here?!

"Please come with me Cala."

"No, never."

"I can help you if you just come with me."

"Don't you get it?! I can't, it isn't meant be!"

"All I ask is that you follow me."

"_No!_" and she ignited her lightsabers and came at him. Cala was immediately surprised. Oren was a poor opponent. His posture was wrong, his movements indecisive, he was no duelist at all. She had faced him only when she was weak and unbalanced. Now she darker than any other time of her life. She was ferocious, and he was forced to yield and step back again and again. Then he leaped back, extinguished his staff, and knelt.

"What are you doing!? Fight me!"

"If you wish to kill me then it must be done in cold blood."

Cala screamed in fury. But in that scream the remainder of her fury was lost. Without it, she was overcome with weariness, and resigned to his will.

"No," she said and extinguished her sabers.

"Cala, I beg you, accept my humble forgiveness, I have failed you, completely and utterly. Now I hope only to repair some of the damage I have done."

"What? You mean you blame yourself for this, not me?"

"I was the master, I am totally to blame. I was foolish to think I could properly train a padawan, I was too heavy handed, too blatant."

"I've been so guilty… I couldn't control myself at all... I just wanted to disappear."

"That can end, just come with me."

"Okay."

Oren waved a hand. "Sleep in peace Cala." And she allowed him to put her to sleep, and he carried her to his ship.

oOo

The first thing Cala perceived was the sound of waves, then the sweet music of some exotic alien bird. She opened her eyes. She was under the shade of trees and Oren was kneeling over her.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Where are we?"

"A deserted island on Velmor, a peaceful place."

"I feel… good, I'd forgotten what that felt like."

"I kept you unconscious while I purged most of the poisons from your body. I was afraid the cravings would make you violent."

Cala looked away. "Yeah, that was all pretty foolish of me, getting hooked on all that stuff, but didn't know what to do, I just wanted to loose myself."

"I know, I understand. It was foolish, but it was ultimately my fault."

"No, you don't get it. I am dark to the core, I saw it in myself on Rhen Var."

"Cala, we shouldn't dwell on that right now. We have business to attend to."

"Like?"

"Healing. You and I need to work together."

"Didn't you just say the poisons were purged?"

"Most of them, yes. But it will take time, and the Force, to totally break your physical and mental addictions, and repair your body."

Cala looked down. She was startled to find herself naked under a light blanket. "I, er… I mean,"

"I am sorry if it is embarrassing. I had to establish physical contact over every surface of the body to reach the toxins as deep as I could."

"Oh… right."

"You have my word I remained clinical, I am a jedi after all."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, no big deal." She looked out at the water. "Can I get some exercise? I haven't been anywhere this nice in… a long time."

"Of course, let me get you some clothes." And went away to get some.

"Oren?"

"Yes?"

"How long was I on The Wheel?"

"About a year."

"A year?! I… I thought it was no more than six weeks. A whole year… Well, I guess I'm nineteen now."

"Happy birthday, sorry I am missed the celebration."

"Yeah, I'm sure I got a really good high that day."

"I am sorry, that was obtuse of me."

"Don't worry about it."

"Here, how will this do?" He held a sundress in his hands.

"Did you go on a shopping spree Oren? Or are you just a master of using the Force to turn fur into summer ware?"

Oren smiled in his good-natured way. "Yes, I spent a good deal of those thirty thousand credits on supplies. I did not want to be forced to leave you for want of them."

"At least something good came of my…" She broke off and sighed.

"Do not focus on the negative, keep your mind in the here and now." He laid the dress on the ground before her and gentlemanly turned his back. Cala stood up and stretched her joins. They were stiff, but not painful. She looked herself over. She had been aware of her own decay before, and she seemed much healed. Lines could still be seen in her skin, but they were softening, and her complexion was pale rather than sallow, and her dark veils were gone. She put on the dress.

"You can turn around now." He turned. "Do I look awful?"

"You look like you are healing, that is all that is important right now."

"Okay, let's just go for a walk. The sea looks beautiful."

oOo

The next weeks did bring healing, healing of the mind, body, and spirit. Driven by mutual guilt, they put light and darkness aside for a time, and relished their time together. When Cala felt the many stages of pain and exasperation from withdrawal, Oren comforted her with his words and with the Force. They talked, they got to know each other, they strolled the beaches, they swam in the sea, they explored the jungle. When Cala felt the need for challenge, she took to hunting game and spear fishing. When she didn't, Oren provided all while she relaxed under the favorable weather. Cala never asserted her darkness, and Oren never preached the light.

But as time passed, and Cala grew more hale, she grew afraid and depressed. What would happen when she healed? Would Oren try and teach her again? Would they part company? Would they kill each other? Cala didn't want their current situation to end; she wanted to remain sick indefinitely. For a time her wish seemed to come true. Even though her addictions were broken, her body remained ravaged, and perhaps even became more so. It was the physical manifestation of her anxiety. Oren continued to attend to her diligently, but after a while he became secretly frustrated, and spoke to her.

"Cala, I think it is time we speak."

"Do we have to?"

"For both our sakes, yes."

"You're going to try and turn me to the light side again? It won't work, trust me."

"I have come to accept that I cannot simply teach you, I have seen into you as well now. But now we are presented with a choice; we take my ship to the nearest port and go our separate ways."

"I could never go back to my old life now, or any other without you."

"Or I could form a Force bond between us."

"A what? Have you lost it? Do you even know if that's possible?"

"The potential for one has long existed between us, the only thing keeping us apart has been our disparate alignments."

"Oh, is that all? I'm sure we can overcome something as trivial as that."

"It can be done if we try."

"Well I won't."

"Why not?"

"Oren… I don't know what I'll do to you if we're linked… I may corrupt you, the thought of that is unbearable. If I'm to be dark, leave me to do it alone."

"I cannot do that Cala. Besides, you underestimate my intuition into the Force. I am a consular. If you had been trained as a jedi, you would be guardian, which is euphemism for warrior. I have a deeper understanding of the Force."

"That doesn't mean you feel what I feel in myself. Why can't we just stay here, forget about everything else?"

"It will go wrong. Before long it will go terribly wrong. It is inevitable. This is our only choice." Cala looked away in silence. "Please Cala, trust me."

"Alright, what do I need to do?"

"Just follow my lead." Oren took her hand.

"What's going to happen?"

"I have no idea."

Cala felt him borrowing into her mind. She shivered at how alien his felt in her's. He kept going, like a worm he made his way up through her subconscious and into the highest reaches of her mind. "Don't fight it; I am almost through." Then he stopped and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Brace yourself." Then Cala felt as if the Force were being sucked out of her through the intrusion. She held firm. Beads of sweat appeared on Oren's forehead. She was being extruded. She was being pulled into Oren, deep into his mind, his soul. She started feeling light headed, and, just as she felt she would pass out, Oren stopped. Oren's voice strained. "Cala listen to me, your mind is stretched into mine like a rubber band, when I let go of it, my mind will come flooding into yours. Be as ready as you can." She nodded.

Then it came. A thousand memories and buried emotions from her own mind burst upon her, followed by totally unfamiliar ones. They piled up much faster than she could process, the sensory overload burned her like a blinding light. As she started wondering how long she could take it, the surge deflected out of her mind, it was a pressure wave. It bounced back weaker, and then again, and again, and again until it was only the faintest ripple between them.

Then the link stabilized, and they began to feel each other. Cala reached out across their bond and felt Oren's light. Then she felt Oren, his living presence, feeling her darkness. She sensed his wonder, his restrained fear. But it did not corrupt him. They simultaneously raised their heads and looked each other in the eye.

They spoke as one. "Wow."

"So, that is the dark side of the Force?"

"Yeah, it's really something isn't it?"

"You are not going to change at all."

"Neither are you."

"So, what do we do now?"

"We stop worrying about each other's alignment, and we carry on."

Things then went, for a while, much as they had before. Oren conducted treatments trough their link, healing her at the deepest physical and mental level. Her skin tanned and returned to its smooth gleam, returned to its former beauty. The sickly reds and yellows of her eyes returned to grey. And she was happy again.

Their link made it possible, it quieted all doubts of intent and honesty. Regardless how much they explored each other's alignment, Oren remained light, seeking to serve even after Cala healed, and She remained dark, seeking pleasure and victory in the sea and in the jungle. She had outbursts of emotion from time to time, but they passed harmlessly; Oren knew how to dispel them. There was a strange harmony between them, a sublime balance.

oOo

As Oren made his way back to camp, he saw Cala sitting on the beach. As he came over, she stood and said, with a saccharine grin, "Come with me."

Oren sensed something powerful looming concealed on the other side of their bond, but followed her nonetheless. Cala walked to their camp and ducked behind a tree. As Oren walked up to it, he heard a mysterious, playful laugh. Then, with all the smooth, haughty, grace of a Nexu, Cala strutted around the corner completely naked.

"Wha-"

"Sh, Oren." She draped her arms around him. "Open your eyes! We're in love! We are hopelessly in love!"

"I am a jedi! I-"

"And I'm a sith?"

"Well… yes."

"No, we're neither of those things. Look at us! We have no orders, just each other. All I have is you, and I want you, I want to feel you… I want to feel you in me!"

"But…"

"Tell me you don't want it. Go on, tell me and I'll stop."

"Cala, I… I am yours, forever, faithfully, I am yours."

That was more than enough warrant for Cala. `

oOo

Cala perked her head up. She heard… yes, an engine! A ship's engine! Cala looked up through the trees and saw an imperial shuttle pass overhead. What was that doing on a remote corner of Velmor? It was heading in the direction of camp. _I should be with Oren, this might be important, they might land somewhere in the area._ She threw down her hunting spear and ran for camp.

Then she heard the sound, unmistakable even at a great distance, of the ship descending. She quickened her pace. _Has Dad found me? No, that's imposable. Find us out here? No way._ Just as she thought this, she was struck dumb by a presence she felt through her bond. Oren sensed a presence that she knew well: Revan. Her worst nightmare had come true. She ran frantically now. A thousand different images of Oren's death filled her mind. Then, bleeding through Oren's best efforts to protect her, she felt terrible pain inflicted on him. _Revan has him!_ _He's torturing him!_ Fear for Oren transmuted into hatred of Revan.

Within a hundred meters of camp she went into Force stealth. She heard the roar of Force lightning. As she entered the camp she saw them. Oren slumped on his knees before Revan; two sith with ignited sabers flanked him.

"I'll ask you again; _what have you done with her!?_"

"You will never take her back."

Revan kicked in the gut, then again, and again. Cala torn her eyes away and grabbed her lightsabers from a bag next to their bed. They carried red crystals now, synthesized both in celebration of her darkness and spite of her father.

"I'm losing patience jedi, tell me where Cala Shan is."

"I'm right here!" Cala sent Revan and his masked guards flying and ran to Oren's side. He was singed and bruised. Cala lent him her strength in the Force to heal himself.

"Cala… my daughter, I don't know what lies he's told you, but please, come with me!"

"There are no lies between us old man. But thanks for coming out here so I can…" Oren squeezed her bare arm and their bond resonated, "_No._"

"Don't touch her!"

Cala sighed. "Dad, I don't want anything to do with you, or Mom, or the sith. We're happy here. Be content with that and leave."

"_We're?_ We're happy here? Don't tell me this… has seduced you!"

"It's more like I seduced him."

"Come with me peacefully, and I will allow him to live."

"Never."

Revan ignited his saber and turned to his guards. "Kill the jedi, but harm one hair on my daughter's head and you will die a death too terrible to imagine."

"Yes, my lord," and they ignited their sabers. Cala took pleasure that she could finally face him the way she'd always wanted.

"We fight as one," Oren said as he ignited his saberstaff.

The sith charged. With a quick motion, Oren sent one fly towards him. The sith brought his saber to bare in time to block Oren's attack but fell to Cala's swift strike. As Revan came upon them Cala put herself in front, shielding Oren. He passed his own strength to her, only occasionally pursuing an opening. Cala took down the other sith in a flash. Now the duel that Cala wanted was nigh. They knew each other's strengths and weakness intimately. Apart from the emotional charge, the duel felt almost rehearsed; they knew exactly what to attack and what counter attack the other would use. The real duel was four or five move in the future; the strikes were just formalized agreements. The duel went on for what seemed like hours until Oren, all but forget on the side lines, seized the chance for a sun djem, destroying Revan's lightsaber.

Cala held her sabers at his throat.

"If you kill him you will regret it for the rest of your life. I know you still love him."

"We can't let him go free! He'll hunt us down again."

"And if you kill him? Your mother will come, and you will have to kill her to. Then the Empire will be left in hands of who-knows who. The Empire will destabilize, the galaxy will be driven into ruin again. It cannot take that, not yet."

"So what? What do we care? We can stay here."

"You know that is not true, you will grow restless, you will seek power, seek to start our own order. And perhaps… someday… something more, together."

"You don't know him; his tenacity has no end."

"Cala my girl, you've grown up." Revan spoke but did not raise his head. "I'd hoped this was some misguided adventure of youth, but now I see that it's more. I always had the nagging sense that your destiny laid on a path apart from mine, and it seems you've found it. Go away, away from the empire, away from me, and I won't trouble you, on one condition."

"What?"

Revan stood up. "Let me hold you in my arms one last time."

And she embraced him, the embraced of father and daughter. Cala's childhood ran like a holovid before her, form her earliest memory to that moment. The love, the hate the glee, the pain. Revan, Bastila, HK, others… many others, all in the past… gone from her life forever now.

Then she pushed him away, and he stepped back. He gave Oren a hard look.

"Look after her, jedi, or you'll have me to deal with."

Oren bowed silently.

"Good-bye, my beloved daughter, and good luck." And he depart to his ship, and they watched as it disappear into the sky.

* * *

Sorry if the end was a bit weird. Was it weird? What do you think?

Yes, I'm trying to get reviews.


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